


Il Bel Modello

by Adeline_Hatter



Series: Plance Plance Revolution Baby [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Basically me shoving literally every trope I have in it and not even really caring anymore, EXCEPT I HAVEN'T, F/M, Fashion Magazine AU, Hellfire (Hunchback of Notre Dame Song), I ramble in my tags alot can you tell?, Implied Sexual Content in later stuff though, It's Shlock, It's rated Mature but that's mainly because of how much fucking oogling Pidge is gonna do, Lance is a Hot AF Model, Model AU, Pidge is the intern who has to take care of him, That'll come in later...., This will be the thing I update when everyone thinks I've forgotten it, Update Schedule? What update schedule?, fake dating au, there are bets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adeline_Hatter/pseuds/Adeline_Hatter
Summary: In which Lance McClain is a Model, notorious for breaking his interns with his good looks, charm and wit.Until he meets Pidge.The Intern who is definitely not attracted to him, except she absolutely is.Not that she's going to admit that of course.





	1. A Smolder and an Intern, what could go wrong?

**Author's Note:**

> #JUSTICEFORALLURA 
> 
> https://justice-for-allura.tumblr.com/post/181711316892/as-season-8-came-to-a-close-signifying-the-end-of

Notorious they’d said. 

 

Impossible they’d said. 

 

Annoying, she said. 

 

He likes his coffee non-existent, so she’d once delivered an empty cup. 

 

He liked his water ice cold and freshly poured, so she’d handed him a cup of ice and told him to wait. 

 

He liked to walk into the changing rooms wearing face masks and drinking green tea, so Pidge ‘accidently’ spilt water all over him once. 

 

And yet. 

 

She had not been fired. 

 

And she was slowly losing it. 

 

“Put on a shirt please, we are not on set.” 

 

“What? Don’t like seeing my well-defined muscles?”    
  
“Nope, just hate seeing your ego.” She spoke coldly, adjusting her glasses and flipping through the clipboard in her hands, “And it’s the middle of December, we have to switch venues, you get the picture.” 

 

Lance McClain moves, he’s facing her properly now and she’s staring straight at his chest, the hard-soft lines, the six pack, the manboobs, the lean muscle that makes millions of people’s toes curls at the sight of in the spring and summer issues. 

 

He leans an arm against the wall, obnoxious and towering over her, she hates it. 

 

She hates how much she likes oogling him from afar. 

 

“Pidge, come on…” He murmurs, low and husky, she’d been warned about this from the start, he was Loverboy Lance, after all, he just  _ loved  _ it when the interns sent to look after him fell swooning at his feet, “Don’t you think I’m attractive?” 

 

He’d broken a lot of interns in his time. 

 

“Everyone who buys the magazine thinks you’re attractive.” Her tone is bored, flat, done with him, “...And I don’t buy the magazine.” 

 

“Oh.” He blinks, clearly spooked by her come back, “...I see.” 

 

Pidge takes a step back, away from the eye height manboobs and the model to cross her arms and raises her eyebrows at him, “Now, if you don’t want to have your muscles freeze and wither while we change venues, I suggest you put on a shirt.” 

 

“......Okay.”    
  
She keeps the sigh of relief in just barely and the disappointment buried in deep down in her chest. 

 

* * *

  
  


A month ago had seen her get there late to sign up for internships to provide the credit within her chosen major, so she had to head for her minor. 

 

Journalism. 

 

How that entailed to her ending up at  _ Coalition  _ she hadn’t the foggiest, a few phone calls and next thing she knew she was being thrown into a room with a half-naked model, told to make sure he got to places on time, that he ate and stayed hydrated, that he kept to the schedule in place. 

 

When she’d met Allura Leon- another model who had some stock in the magazine itself -Pidge had started hearing stories about every single one of Lance McClain’s interns before her. 

 

The first had slept with him within two weeks. 

 

The second had left without much context. 

 

And the rest were just a set of domino effected interns who swooned and became total fangirls overnight. 

 

So when it became clear that Lance was actually making a challenge out of attempting to break her, she became unbreakable. 

 

“Something brought you here Pidge Holt.” He’d said one day after she delivered a cup of water and a few rice cakes, leaning back in his chair and striking a pose she could only describe as  _ Flaunting,  _ eyes half-lidded and looking at her as if she was the only thing he desired in this world, “Call it what you will, fate… Destiny-” 

 

“College Credit.” She’d interrupted without missing a beat, turning away from him to flick through his schedule on her iPad. 

 

He paused, frowning slightly, he was always surprised “That was one of my best lines!” 

 

“It’s from a Disney movie.” She shot back, looking up and seeing him start to pout “And you don’t have the lips or the cheekbones to pull off the Smoulder.”

 

Lance made a sound of offence and stood from his chair, his muscle shirt was tight today, his cheekbones actually rather defined “I definitely have the cheekbones, Flynn Rider who?” 

 

Pidge places a hand on her hip, black high waisted jeans and a green t-shirt her own outfit in this godforsaken fashion hellscape, “He has a better haircut.” Her eyebrows raise, “Not to mention you don’t have that mysterious danger vibe either…”

 

He appears to be getting more and more annoyed, his back is getting tenser, making his broad shoulders more apparent and as he crosses his arms his biceps appear. 

 

She doesn’t let her eyes linger, she can’t, that would give the game away far too quickly, also cause far too much fuel for her imagination and she had enough of that after a month. 

 

She did not need any more, so she bids him a goodbye when she sees the clock and leaves the office. 

 

Her sofa is the first thing she face plants into before she screams. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Pidge Holt.

 

He didn't know if she had a different name, it was the one on her badge, the one he associated with everything about her as she rose her eyebrows at him when he started out on another line.

 

How hard was it to break her? He was going to win this bet with Allura if he killed him, he was already behind her by about three interns, though last he'd heard she was struggling to break Keith, one of the ones who often ended up tailing her for the day.

 

It was a matter of principle at this point, Pidge wasn't going to break his streak of heartbreak, absolutely not.

 

But she seemed immune to the charms he was attempting to wield towards her, she brushed off every pick up line, every attempt at flirtation had even looked him in the eyes instead of the man-boobs he possessed that were eye height with her and told him to put on a shirt.

 

"I'm close, I can  _ feel it. _ " He reported to Allura when they met up in the company's coffee shop on the bottom floor of the building, he ordered two teas and turned towards her, "She's breaking, she's going to break."

 

His longtime friend hums at him, "Has she blushed?"

 

"No."

 

Allura raises an eyebrow, "Has she acted any differently around you?"

 

"No."

 

The eyebrow continues to raise, "Has she, in any way asked you to ravish her?"

 

He stayed silent, collecting their tea as they started up to the fashion offices of Coalition, "No."

 

"Pity." She smirked, "I quite like her, maybe you shouldn't try to break this one, I'm making a case for my Father to start paying her for the services she provides."

 

"What 'Services'?"

 

She cackles, "Keeping our resident Loverboy in check of course." Allura plucked the takeout cup from him as the lift stopped and they climbed aboard, “Maybe I should hire her officially as my assistant-” 

  
“HOLD IT!” Came the yell as a hand slipped through the gap and the doors to the lift opened again with the aid of Lance’s quick reflects, “Pidge! I caught it!” Keith Kogane yelled and blue eyes watched his friend go taut and tense, her eyes looking the other man over before looking down at her tea. 

 

Then came Pidge. 

 

Pidge in skinny jeans and a tank top seen through her thick coat, he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of it matched with her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, “Oh.” She let out with a breath, out of it slightly, “Morning Ms Leon, morning Lance.” 

 

“Morning!” Allura greeted, “Kogane, I was beginning to wonder about where you were.” Lance watched his friend turn her gaze into the dark-haired man with ease, another pass over everything. 

 

Keith Kogane was the intern Allura had received almost two months ago now, with his scruffy hair and James Dean esque fashion sense, “Missed the bus, won’t happen again.” He replied, all business, ever the model intern… Which was insane since Lance recalled him having been the one who set firecrackers off in Lotor’s dressing room that one time. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, a text next time will do.” She smiled at him, all cuteness. 

 

Keith’s expression remained unchanged, he had this aura of impenetrable cool, like even the strongest of swords wouldn’t break it. He just nodded once, before Allura frowned and turned to Pidge. 

 

“Are you quite alright Pidge?” 

 

“Yeah, just overslept is all.” Her hair was a disgruntle mess and pillow marks ran along her face, “You?” 

 

Allura squinted a little before the lift dinged, “My floor, I’ll see you this afternoon Lance.” She called leaving, shooting him a smug look as the doors shut again. 

 

And so Lance found himself with his maybe-hot-intern and a git with a ponytail. 

 

 

* * *

 

There is a drumbeat in her head, repeating over and over again how important it is that she doesn’t think about the cut of Lance’s jeans or how he’s definitely wearing that tight jumper intentionally. 

 

How was it possible that a fucking string bean with nice man boobs and slim hips could reduce her to staring at a wall in a lift slowly going up, Keith leaned against the opposite corner to her, his eyes shifting between her and Lance carefully.

 

She glared, he stopped. Some friend he was.

 

What was more curious and more pressing was that Lance hadn’t taken his eyes off of her for a second since she’d walked into this lift, he probably thought she hadn’t noticed, but she had.

 

Not that she cared or anything, his attention was not something she craved like peanut butter cookies after a long day, when Keith got off and it was just them, tension rose in her shoulders, expecting, waiting…. Maybe even wanting…

 

“So, what are we doing today Holt?” His smile is all lazy charm, he lets his eyes turn into slits as he says this and she directs her full attention onto him finally, “Underwear shoot? Swimwear?” 

 

“Formal wear.” She speaks shortly, plainly, “You’re going to be working with Nyma D’Oro today, she’s tricky to work with so don’t expect anything.” 

Lance waves her off and takes a step closer, resting his forearm against the wall above her head so he’s leaning over her again, she looks up and it’s a mistake because the first thought that enters her mind from this angle is how easy it would be to lean up and kiss him senseless. 

 

“I’ve worked with Nyma before, once you stop flirting with her she’s easier to work with…” He murmurs low, “But she’s not currently the beautiful woman on my mind Miss Holt..” 

 

Shouldn’t the lift be stopping? Shouldn’t she be running down the hallway to receive some coffee orders and then running to Starbucks? Shouldn’t she be escaping and not thinking about the cut of his jacket and how well it showed off his figure?

 

Pidge coughs, “I’m sure Allura’s flattered.” She states in perfect deadpan, even as her cheeks heat all by themselves, “But she’s not here.”    
  
“Wasn’t talking about Allura, I was talking about you.” The coyness is gone, he’s going in hard and fast today and… 

 

And Pidge doesn’t hate it. 

 

She ponders for a moment what would happen if she flirted back, a hypothesis that she’s almost a little tempted to work out.

 

Instead of flirting, the lift chimes it’s tune and they arrive at their floor, but she smiles at him before he moves, slowly before saying something she’ll forever deny to her grave. 

 

“Lance, you have nice muscles, but muscles don’t define where else you’re equipped.” She says it and watches him blink, before ducking out from under his shadow and speed walking down the hallway. 

 

Lance. She notes quietly, does not follow her and there’s a muffled curse as the lift doors shut again. 

 

He had broken a lot of Interns in his time.

 

However, she would not be one of them.


	2. Beata Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distress, distress. Look at this big mess.

There comes a time, in every young college intern living off of discounted instant ramen and bread’s life that singing a Disney song on your one day off and spinning around you’re living room whilst doing a really bad impression of Tony Jay’s singing voice is a matter of survival. 

The chorus is what she hits before the door to her small apartment opened and in walked her roommate, her blonde hair slicked back in a ponytail and her headphones firmly in place, as if she’d been expecting it. 

 

Romelle Collins cocks her head at an angle as Pidge goes skating from the kitchen straight into their sofa, she pulls her headphones off her ears, “You could just sleep with him.” 

 

“And give him the satisfaction of breaking me? I think not.” Notre Dame forgotten she rolled onto her back, then onto the floor as Romelle dumped her back on the sofa, “I will not be another in his long list of broken interns.” 

 

“I’ve seen Lance McClain.” She retorts, “You are dying inside.” 

 

Pidge closes her eyes and sees glittering blue, “Very much so.” 

 

It wasn’t rocket science, it was biology and skinny jeans working against her. 

 

The song plays on in the background as she stares up at the ceiling, thinking about a man whose whole body seemed to screw her up in ways no one else ever had and she hadn’t even seen  _ all of it.  _

 

Not that she wanted to. 

 

“I don’t want to.” She stated aloud and earned a puzzled look from Romelle, “I don’t.” 

 

A moment of silence passed, “..........Are you going to give me context for that?” 

 

“Probably not.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about her freckles. 

 

She had  _ freckles.  _

 

Adorable, scattered across her nose, they moved with the bridge of it, in time with the glitter in her eyes of determined defiance. 

 

She was. In short- And she was short, how the fuck could someone be so adorably short? -unbreakable. 

 

Though Lance was never one to give up. 

 

“I’m telling you, buddy, I’m not gonna give up this time.” He repeats it as he throws himself out across Hunk’s sofa, staring up at the ceiling while music plays in the kitchen, “No intern has defeated my reign as Coalition’s resident heartbreaker, not now, not ever.” 

 

Hunk stuck his head into the living room, “Matthew Holt.” He pulled his head back into the kitchen, after mentioning the fellow model.

 

“Okay, second resident heartbreaker, it’s not my fault he went from Hot to Nerd Hot in the span of three years.” 

 

This is of course, where the name finally connects in Lance’s head.

 

“Hunk?” He begins a little shakily, “Did you say, Holt?” 

 

“Yeah, why?” 

 

_ Oh fuck, oh f u c k.  _

 

“Does Matt have a sister called Pidge?” 

 

There was a clatter as Hunk reappeared from the kitchen holding two plates, “No, but I think he has a little sister called Katie.” 

 

_ Katie.  _

 

“Though, Pidge sounds familiar.” He sets the plates down on the coffee table, the smell of garlic is thick “I used pea pasta today, wanted to try it out.” 

 

“Pee pasta?”

 

A slight glare, “Lance.” 

 

“Okay, okay, it sounds nice.” 

 

He started eating, it was nice… So nice, too nice, it tasted how Lance imagined kissing Pidge would- 

 

_ Wait what the fuck _

 

 

* * *

 

 

There comes a time in every twenty-something model’s life that you have a stray thought, with that stray thought comes anxiety, pulling, tugging, twisting and making you think about it until the next time you come face to face with the person the thought was about you can feel the heat rising in your face the moment you see the first wisps of their horrible haircut.

Point is.

 

Lance looks over at Pidge as she stands next to him in the makeup room in the mirror, reading off his schedule, she’s dressed in overalls and warm green jumper, it suits her. 

 

Her hair, as ever is a mess, a mess he wants to run his hands through, a mess he’d very much like to put his face in and see if it’s really as soft as it looks. 

 

“-Lance are you even listening to me?” She snaps suddenly looking up from the tablet in her hands and catching him in the eyes.

 

“Hm? What? Of course, I am!” He replies a little too sharply, he hadn’t been listening much, he vaguely remembers some things but had mostly focused on her hair and her little button nose that’s curling up her face in a wrinkle of disdain like a bunny’s. 

 

She looks at him as if not convinced in the slightest, “Okay, so you know that you have a swimwear suit at three o’clock at Taujeer Spa.” 

 

“Yep, even remember that Allura and Keith are gonna be there too.” He replies, watching her face relax behind her glasses while Plaxum touches his face up with a bit of bronzer, “And… Oh, oh no.” 

 

Pidge smirks a delicate little thing that leaves him filled with the sense that she knows something he doesn’t, but may have worked out in the following seconds as he remembers the date, the time, the setting of the shoot.

 

“Please tell me he cancelled.” 

 

“Nope.” She sounds too smug about this, “Besides, Acxa says he’s not too bad today.” 

 

Lance wants to curl up and sleep for a thousand years because, no one. 

 

_ No one.  _

 

Should have to deal with Lotor Gale on a Wednesday. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

At least ten times in your life by the time you are twenty-one and trying to graduate from a university that you will deal with an Asshole of proportions that outweigh any good sense that you may have seen them ever having.

 

Pidge starts this meeting of the “Done Interns and Personal Assistants” Club by handing Acxa a cup of plain black coffee that may or may not be spiked with whiskey stolen from the photographer’s flask.

 

“How come I don’t get any?” Keith mutters quietly on her other side and she raises an eyebrow, subtly pointing her head towards the man wearing sunglasses indoors with his hair in a man bun and a smile that was probably supposed to come off as charming “Okay, yeah, she needs it more.” 

 

“Fuck yeah I do.” Acxa mutters as she tips some of it back and straightens up, “How did we all end up here?” She questions, leaning back agains the wall and turning to look down at Pidge, “I know why you’re here Pidge, but not Keith.” 

 

Keith shrugs, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes, “Kolivan is a friend of my Mother’s, so here I am. Doing an internship for a company he has some influence in.” 

 

“I thought Shiro got you here?” She asks, sipping her own coffee as Lance appears from his trailer freshly bronzed in a blue speedo, her eyes do not track his movements at all. 

 

“He helped, but Kolivan got the decision made.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets as Allura straightens a strap on her pink lacy swimsuit, “I was supposed to be helping out with the photography department but…” 

 

Pidge raises her eyebrows, “Here you are?” 

 

“Here I am.” He agrees, sighing. 

 

The assistant lets lose a small laugh, “Dying?” She asks as they all watch their respective models start getting posed in place for the backdrop, shining in the lighting and looking almost greek godlike. 

 

“Yep.” Keith and Pidge muttered in unison. 

 

The sound of the camera’s shutter going off and the Photographer’s instructions are the only things they hear for a few minutes, along with a few giggles from Allura as Lance seems to make a quiet comment and Lotor frowns before returning to a neutral expression. 

  
  
Acxa taps her finger on the takeout cup in her hands, “Did you really put firecrackers in Lotor’s dressing room that one time?” 

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” The other intern stated in perfect monotone, “Just know that he really shouldn’t have said what he did at the meeting that morning.” 

 

She nods, “He deserved it, just wondered if you did commission work since Morvok down in marketing has been a pain recently.”    
  
“I can set you up with someone.” He offers and Pidge looks between the two as they exchange a subtle nod back and forth. 

 

They settled back into silence, “ACXA!” Came a yell and the aforementioned sighed, knocked back what was left of the coffee in her hand and walked towards the models with a slight swing in her hips, making her pantsuit work for her. 

 

“Yes, sir?” It’s call that’s filled with fake cheeriness, but amusement at the same time. 

 

Keith is biting back his own smile, “Did I miss something?” Pidge asks quietly, he presses his lips together as they watch Lotor shake his hair out of it’s bun and talk a bit more quietly, the PA smiling slightly as she notes down what’s probably coffee orders. 

 

“Nothing.” He finally concedes as Acxa turns on her heel, “Just that it’s usually Acxa being called Sir by him.” 

 

It takes her a moment, “Oh my gods, tmi TMI!” 

 

“Keith, are you spreading rumours again?”    


  
“None that aren’t true.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, I asked for Taujeer Spa for the shoot today.” Lotor begins and Lance fights the urge to chuck him into the hot tub they’re posing in front of, “The owner owed my Father a favour, so I thought what better location.” 

 

Allura smiles briefly before the camera shutter goes off as she slides her arms over both of their shoulders, popping her hips up just enough on the edge, “It really was a charmed decision, I do love this place.” 

 

“A beach would have been better,” Lance mutters, looking over at Allura to check before he placed an arm around her waist and leaning a little bit closer. 

 

She hums, looking past the camera to the three people leaning against the wall, “Yes, but no sand in uncomfortable places at the end of the day is a grand decision.”    
  
“No sand in our hair either.” Lotor agrees, taking Allura’s hand off of his shoulders to hold it carefully, respectively, “It’s a nightmare to get out.” 

 

He couldn’t really argue with that logic, “I could kill for an almond matcha milkshake right now.”    
  
“Oh, that’s not a bad idea.” She whispers, “They’d be the perfect temperature if we got someone to go get them now…” Allura glances back towards the group and he follows her gaze, to wear Pidge is being overshadowed by the two most brooding people Lance has ever known, “I could ask Keith…”    
  
Lotor shoots her a smile, “ACXA!” They watched as the aforementioned visibly sighed and downed what was left in her coffee cup.

 

“Yes, sir?” She sounded a little amused though, Lance wondered if working with the Model Brat Prince of bad 80s references for so long could make someone a little insane. 

 

“Don’t suppose you could be a dear and get us some milkshakes?” He makes sure his smile is sweet, before reaching up and pulling the hairpin out of his hair, letting it settle in waves around his face.

 

Lance narrows his eyes, “Of course sir, anything else?” 

 

“Some truffle fries from that small place on the corner of 12th and 14th?” Allura suggests, “We’ll be finished for the day in about half an hour, I could murder some of those.” 

 

Acxa smiles, “Only if I get some too.” A wink and Allura laughs, “But, I’ll get those sorted out for you.” 

 

“Thank you Acxa!” Lotor and Allura speak in unison as a squeak echoes out from where the interns are standing, “What on earth…?” The latter whispers. 

 

A sigh, “I’ll be back later.” Acxa says with an amused tilt in her lips now, “Have fun.” This is directed at Lotor.

 

“I will Dearie.” He says with all teeth in his smile. 

 

She walks away and Allura leans close to Lotor, “Interesting.” He looks flustered for a moment, “Very very interesting.”    
  
“Oh Shush up Leon.” 

 

* * *

 

There is something a little too powerful about someone standing while you're sitting down and hovering over your face to look down at you. 

 

He isn’t afraid to acknowledge that while Allura had always  _ said  _ this, he’d never had her particular penchant for this idea… Nor the height. 

 

Or so Lance had thought. 

 

He leans back in the makeup chair, looking up at the ceiling quietly with a song straight out of a nineties chick flick playing in his ears when he blinks and the next thing he sees is eyes like honeyed sunsets and a whole abundance of freckles. 

 

Though the first thing that registers is that this is such a pretty face it should be in jail. 

 

The next is the fact that this face, this beautiful, pointedly round, freckle covered, button nose filled face looks…. 

 

_ Pissed.  _

 

“Hey, Pidge.” He somehow manages to keep his voice level, despite the fierce glare and the fiercer attack to something lower, “What’s up?” 

 

She narrows her eyes a little further, “What time is it?” 

 

“Um… Five o’clock?” 

 

“What time is it Lance?” 

 

He pauses this time, thinking it over before it ultimately hits him, “Oh.” 

 

“Yes, oh, where were you supposed to be ten minutes ago?”

 

“Wardrobe.” 

 

A few seconds go by before he shoots up from his chair and starts running, casting a look behind him as Pidge places one hand on her jean clad hips. 

 

Lance just barely catches her eyeroll.

 

Somehow, it’s the best eyeroll in the world.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The wind is not the best thing as he stands here in a fashionable coat and the snow falls down almost picturesque around him on the city streets. 

 

The wardrobe hands tuck in the clothing in just the right ways, a blue scarf made from expensive wool is warm against his face, carefully he looks over to where Pidge is huddled in about twenty different jumpers and coats holding a warm drink in her gloved hands, hair curling around her flushed from the cold face. 

 

She looks adorable. 

 

“You should focus.” The voice is one he’s heard a lot of the years, as Nyma walks over to join him in a soft woolly dress and black trench coat, she doesn’t look nearly as cold as anyone else does. Nyma always seemed to thrive in their location shoots, “I know the Holt family is attractive but keeping your eyes forwards is a better decision.” 

 

Nyma smiles like a shark above him, wearing two-inch heeled boots she’s only just a little taller than he is, long blonde hair coiled back into a bun with two curls framing her face, her eyes round and lilac shinning, her eyeliner expertly applied to make them seem even bigger. 

 

“I am focused and… That’s just a fact, Matt Holt hasn’t stayed at the top of Coalition over the years for nothing.” He replies, fighting the urge to bury himself in his coat, watching as his co-star for the day turned her pointed chin up a bit in time with her raised eyebrows. 

 

She looks away from him towards Pidge again, “So, she’s still your intern? You know you may just end up losing that bet with Allura considering who I saw her with last week.” 

 

“....What do you mean?” 

 

Nyma shrugs, a makeup artist reaching up to add a few finishing touches to her face, “Allura’s been seeing her intern for the last two weeks or so.” 

 

“SHE’S BEEN WHAT?” 

 


	3. Tea or Coffee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft Mornings, Annoying Siblings, Car rides and coffee... Or Tea?

She’d decided very quickly that something she loved seeing in the mornings as of late was him, in her bed, shirtless, paper in his hands as he did the crossword in the paper and she helped when he couldn’t think of anything.

 

It was beautifully domestic in a way none of her other relationships ever had been, simple, but not very easy.

 

“Six letter word for disappointment?” Keith asked as she returned with steaming mugs of tea, black for her, milk and sugar for him, “I wanted to put my name but it starts with a D, and I'm a letter short." 

 

Allura hums as she settles on her side of her bed, “Perhaps ‘Defeat’?” She presses a kiss into his shoulder and sips her coffee, he scrawls it in lazily, “And you are definitely not a disappointment…”

 

“Fits.” He turns his head and smiles at her softly, placing his pen down to set the paper aside and take his own tea from her, “You look well rested, I think that constitutes a little disappointment on my end.

 

Her lips twitch, “Well, we did have a very active evening didn’t we?” His eyes sparkle slightly as the sun comes through her curtains, he slips an arm around her waist and pulls her closer.

 

“So we’d better just relax now.” She hums in reply, setting her mug down on her bedside table and picking up her tv remote, “Victoria?”

 

She nods tucked into his shoulder, “What else?”

 

He kisses her forehead, Allura sighs.

 

It’s so beautifully domestic, so calm, something she’s always craved but never seemed to grasp.

 

But with Keith, it seemed to just be there for her, that connection of hope, that feeling of belonging.

 

Allura looked up at him, “What?” He murmured in response, she kissed his cheek.

 

“Nothing, just thinking about how I should pay you a salary to barge in on my Sunday mornings.” Keith laughs a low husky thing and kisses her ever so softly.

 

“Don’t need it.” He breathes into the kiss.

 

She laughs herself, every piece of tension leaking out as she melts into it.

 

He pulls away from the kiss, “‘Lura?”   
  
“Hmm?”   
  
Keith sits up a bit, “Your new phone is attempting suicide.”

 

“What?” She bolts upright and snatches it off the bedside table, “Who on earth could be- Oh….”   
  
He leans over her shoulder, she melts a little more inside at the feeling of warmth he radiates, “Who is it?”   
  
“Lance, Nyma is a bloody gossip- I mean I’m one to talk but I’m going to kill her -he’s found out I’m seeing you.” She pauses, “...And that he’s lost the bet.”

 

“Do you have to answer him?”

 

Allura contemplates it, before pressing down on her lock button and switching her phone off before chucking it at the end of the bed, “Nope!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Pidgeeeeeeee.”   
  
“Go away.”

 

Matt continues knocking at her front door, “Let me in you coward and tell me why Nyma says that Lance was looking at you like you were Marilyn Monroe.”   
  
She pulls her door open with a speed that would get her shoved in a government facility for testing, “What?”

 

“Knew that would get the door open.” Her brother smirks, he turns to his companion next to him, “And you said it wouldn’t work.”

 

Nyma brushed past both of them, settling herself on Pidge’s armchair, “I simply said that Lance is looking at her like she’s the best thing on this planet.” Her eyes sparkled and Pidge glared, “So, I bought Matt here so we could get your side of things.”

 

“Sometimes you're worse than Allura.” Pidge replied, opening the door fully and letting her brother in after his best friend, “But nothing is happening with Lance.”

 

She watches them exchange a look, “.........Don’t buy it.” Matt stated.

 

“Neither do I,” Nyma replied.

 

Pidge groaned, she was going to have to physically remove them from her apartment at this rate, “I have to get to work.”

 

“To see Lance~”   
  
She glared, Matt laughed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She didn’t have work on Sundays, she left them sitting in her apartment sending a text to Romelle to kick them out for her.

 

Thus, Pidge found herself out on the town for a day.

 

Which was fine, except the library was shut, she’d forgot her laptop charger and the nearest coffee shop to her apartment was Starbucks, while she would do anything for caffeine she was not in the mood to subject herself to that.

 

Keith had the same laptop as her and a good coffee maker, she’d usually hang out at his place until her brother stopped bothering her…

 

But, he wasn’t picking up his phone.

 

She narrowed her eyes as it went to voicemail, today was one of those days that she really wished she’d made more friends in her lifetime…

 

No, she’d been right not to, people, in general, were assholes, some just didn’t admit and that was the consensus for the whole universe.

 

Pidge sighs as she swings herself on the railing of the staircase to end up in the direction she wants to continue down the street, walking fast enough to carry her down 43rd without much of a second glance.

 

She passes the aforementioned Starbucks when she sees him.

 

_Oh fuck, no, not now-_

 

It takes two seconds for him to spot her, even as she attempted to melt back into the crowd hurrying down the street, his eyes widening a stretch as he sees her.

 

Maybe if she pretended she hadn’t seen him she’d get away from-

 

“Katie.”

 

_My name is actually ‘Kill me’ but okay._

 

Then Pidge pauses, turning to face Lance with wide eyes and softly begins looking through the list of ways to kill him, “Where did you-”

 

“So, you _are_ Matt Holt’s sister.” He breathes a little in awe, “I haven’t had a chance to test that theory yet, look at that it’s proven.”

 

She watches his eyes, watches them sparkle “You worked out my secret identity.” Pidge drawls monotoned at him, “Oh no, guess now I’ll have to hand myself into the government officials I changed my name to hide from because they hid something from me.”   
  
“....I honestly can’t tell if you're being sarcastic or serious right now.” He admitted, standing up straight in Gucci boots and Levi jeans that were definitely too tight for the season in question, he puffed his jacket out to straighten it, “Mind telling me which?”

 

Lips twitching up into her trademark mischievous smirk, Pidge stuffed her hands into the pockets of her tungeries, “You tell me.”

 

Lance frowns, but his eyes seem to be trained on her smirk and she lets it drop, snapping him back to reality, “You, are one of the meanest people I know.”

 

“In comparison to who?” She sticks her tongue out at him and shivers slightly, cursing Matt out more in her head.

 

He shrugs, “Want a coffee?” It’s a strange question considering what Pidge knows of Lance, but still, something in her overrides everything else as she says.

 

“Sure, as long as it’s from somewhere better than Starbucks.”

 

He frowns again, “What’s wrong with Starbucks?”  
  
“Gods.” Pidge laughs, looking up at him with another smile that’s a little softer than she’s ever willing to admit she’s let her emotion show, “Ya basic.”

 

She watches his eyebrows twitch, then widen a little comically, “Eleanor Shellstroop.” Lance laughs himself, “Nice, but fine… How do you feel about Independent coffee?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“Bi Boh Beans it is.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He finds it ridiculous that Pidge can somehow leave him breathless, she’s holding her hands up to her face in the passenger seat of his car, puffing warm air onto them as she rubs them together.

 

It’s a stark difference to her attire from the shoot a few days before, to be fair he is also the exact opposite, wearing as many thermals as he can without looking like a fool, the cold northern air remaining an odd thing to adjust to from warm Cuban beaches.

 

She looks freezing, her face flushed up as she sniffs quietly.

 

Lance turns the heating in his car up a bit more as he drives, reaching for the volume on the radio aiming to turn it up, an oldie turned good for the season coming through his car like no one’s business.

 

 _“I really can’t stay~”_ He sings in time with the female voice, keeping his eyes on the road as traffic settles in, signalling that maybe just maybe, they’re coffee trip could take a while, “I wonder what’s going on out there?”

 

Pidge shrugs, almost pressing her hands up against the heating in his car, so he flicks the seat warmers on, her whole expression changes, “Of course you have seat warmers.” It’s a mutter, then she looks forwards herself, “Who knows, we’re just stuck.”

 

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, he does it in time with the song on the radio, “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.” He admits, watches her pause in staring out the window to look at him instead.

 

Just like that, every nerve in his body is struck as her eyes meet his, like lightning and there’s a sudden but ever present beat of his heart.

 

“We never got off on any foot.” Her voice is low, “I don’t think either of us got off at all-” She stops completely, snapping her gaze forwards again and he watches her ears go red, not from the cold this time.

 

There’s a thought process that returns as much as he tries to shove it to the back of his mind, as Pidge rubs her hands together, bites her lip and leans back into the passenger seat.

 

His attention is brought to her face, sharp but a little rounded, eyes big, shining almost always, nose sharp but suiting her face nonetheless. Her face was very expressive, but not at the same time as her lips curled in a frown and she turned back towards him eyes blazing a bit more.

 

“Stop that.” It’s not so much a hiss as a command, “And don’t ‘Stop what’ me either, looking at me out of the corner of your eye.” Pidge narrows her eyes at him as she says this, “Like you find me attractive.”

 

He blinks, “But I do find you attractive?”

 

They both stop then, silence filling the car as he feels himself go bright red and watches her go just the same.

 

She tapped a finger on her leg, “So, you have an Audi? Wish I could say it wasn’t something I expected.” She’s brushing over his comment and looking out the front window of the car again, “Honestly, I was lowkey betting on a Lamborghini.”

 

“I… I had a Lamborghini up until about a month ago.”

 

“No shit.” Pidge exclaimed turning to face him again, “Are you actually serious?”

 

He can only really nod as the traffic starts moving.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

They do eventually make it out of bed.

 

Much to Allura’s protests as she tries to drag him back in again, it’s tempting because it’s warm in bed and cold out of it.

Allura eventually follows him out to her kitchen, her nightgown shed in favour of his button up shirt and her slippers, “Make me some tea will you?” She purrs as she wraps her arms around his middle, “Or an omelette.”

 

“I can make Omelettes, or…” He twists around so he’s facing her and can successfully thread his arms under hers, “I can make pancakes.”

 

“Pancakes!” She all but squeals, her eyes wide and bright and sparkling as she lets him go, launching back on her feet as he starts collecting the ingredients, “I’m taking photos!!”

 

He smiles as she runs back into her bedroom, he can hear her crashing around before she comes back her hair a bit more of a mess and her eyes still alight.

 

Keith stifles a laugh, “What?” She asks cocking her head and a lock falls in her eyes.

 

He walks up and moves it out of her vision, “Nothing, you just look adorable.”

 

A singular huff and she leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him, “You look handsome.” The blush is involuntary, becoming present in mere moments, her smile is slow and wicked as she proceeds to wrap her arms around his neck, “Did I fluster you?”

 

“Maybe a little.” He murmurs and kisses her again.

 

She pulls away, “Keith?”

 

“Hm?”

 

Allura cradles his face as she stops leaning upwards, “Let’s make some pancakes-” Her now turned on phone goes off in her hand, “What the fuck?” Are the words that come out of her mouth, he pushes the small part of him that reacts to the curse and looks down at her in concern.

 

“What’s up?”

 

She turns her phone to him in reply.

 

* * *

 

When she first opens her door, she doesn’t know what she’s expecting, throwing it open and seeing Matthew Holt and Nyma D’Oro settled on her couch.

 

“Get out.” Romelle states plainly as she walks in, setting her portfolio on the kitchen counter and turning to face them, “Pidge texted me you were here, I didn’t quite believe and yet…”

 

Matt grins broadly at her and she groans, “Here we are.”

 

“Here you are.” She grumbles as Nyma stands up and walks over to her, pulling her towards her like a cat and threading hands through her hair, “I’m not falling for the flirting Nyma, I have a girlfriend.”

 

A pout as the other blonde pulled away from her, “Fine, honestly you are all so boring, even if we get out of your way... Why do you want us gone?” Nyma keeps running her fingers through Romelle’s hair, “Besides, you look as if you have business to attend to.”

 

“One of my classmates is coming over that’s all.” Well, Hunk wasn’t a classmate as such, Shay was coming by too, “You need to leave so I can tell Pidge she can come home.”

 

It’s a stare down as Nyma sighs, tucking Romelle’s hair behind her shoulders finally before looking up at Matt, “She’s right, can’t leave Pidge out in the cold.”

 

“No, we can’t-”

 

All three of their phones went off with notifications at once.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She sighed in happiness at the first sip of the bitter liquid, a chocolate, blackberry flavour covering her tongue.

 

Ben Bo behind the counter smiles at her with a wink as he turns his tall, svelte body around to face the next customer in line, it’s a good roast in her hands and Pidge is in heaven.

 

“This… This is good coffee.” She grins broadly as she settles down in the green worn armchair next to the radiator nearing the back of the small coffee shop, “I’m more awake already.”

 

Lance smiles at her as he sips slowly at something she’s sure is sweet as all heck, “Cherry Bakewell Green Tea.” He offers up as soon as her eyes land on the cup in his hands that he’s cradling.

 

She’s focused on him, his smile, the delicate but strong way his long fingers hold onto the cup, as he talks and explains that this flavour of the tea was self-made by Ben himself and could be purchased.

 

“I still have no idea what he’s saying half the time, he talks about as fast as Coran.” He laughs quietly, she’s finding herself getting all the more attached to his laugh in recent days.

 

This is the only reason she ignores the buzzing of her phone, “I’ve met Coran, he talks like he’s on an IV drip of Red Bull.” He laughs again, this time a little louder and leans across the table towards her.

 

“You know, I’ve often wondered if Coran is even human.” Lance’s smile is wide, charming and her palms are getting sweaty the longer it continues to be directed at her, “In fact, I ask myself if more than half the people at Coalition are human, they’re all so capable of their jobs.”

 

She sticks her mug in her face before she lets herself wonder where exactly she’d like that smile pressed against her, “O...Oh really?”

 

“Yeah!” He replies, either oblivious to the way his smile is making her melt a bit as he leans even closer over the small table towards her, she can feel how warm he is, it’s a little maddening, “Like Beezer in the writing department, he’s a charmer, always seems to know just how to write the best stories and get them in on time for the deadline, he’s like a robot.”

 

Pidge sips at her coffee, her phone keeps buzzing consistently in her pocket and she wants it to shut up because maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if she leaned over, fisted her hands in his collar and kissed him-

 

“Sorry Pidge, my phone’s going off like there’s a natural disaster happening somewhere so I should check…. It…” Lance’s warmth is gone from across as the table in a swift smooth motion as he sticks up straight, “I have like fifteen missed calls from Allura, what the…”

 

She takes this chance to check her own phone, over forty missed texts from Romelle, from Matt, a couple from Nyma, a missed call from her Mother and… “I have missed calls from Keith too, what the fuck?” She decides to ignore the way Lance’s eyes snap up from his phone as she touches upon the last word.

 

“Oh…” Lance whispers as he looks back down at his phone.

 

“Oh? What oh-” But then she clicks on a link from Romelle.

 

_Oh, fuck me._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Of all the stupid!” She walks back and forth in front of them, even in just a button up and a pair of pink lion slippers, Allura is terrifying, “Irresponsible things!” Her finger juts out at him, he chances a glance to his side to where Pidge is sat.

 

She twiddling her thumbs, her eyes are blank and trained to the pink lions walking back and forth in front of them, “I was just taking Pidge out for Coffee-”

 

“You’re _Loverboy Lance!”_ Allura stops and turns towards him, “My Father is banking on you being seen as Single and desirable!” Her hands land on her hips and his whole body cowers at her glare, “And before you go off on me lying about dating Keith-” She chucks a sheepish smile over her shoulder to the aforementioned who’s leaning against her kitchen counter a mug in one hand, lack of shirt obvious, “-I’m careful!”

 

Allura breathes heavily, twisting on her heel to accept another mug from Keith, of which she chugs, “Allura-” He tries again, she turns back around towards him and he’s silenced in a single second.

 

“I tease you, Lance, I do, but you let rumours get out of control this time! PR couldn’t even catch it in time!” She sets the now empty mug on the table, “You’ve dragged poor Pidge into it as well, now…”

 

He looks over at the Apple TV displaying the latest gossip.

 

_Lance McClain seen with Unknown Woman, is this the end of Coalition’s Resident Loverboy?_

 

With the clearest picture of him and Pidge, sitting in the front of his car looking at each other with red ears and- “How the fuck did someone get such a good photo?”

 

“Because the press keeps an eye on you!” Allura says throwing her hands in the air, “They have ever since Jenny Shaybon dumped you-”

 

“I broke up with her-”

 

“-She got to the press first!” Distantly he sees Pidge exchange a look with Keith in the corner of his eye, as they sit in Allura’s wide open living space, “So… Now we have to do damage control.”

 

Allura presses her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose.

 

Everything falls silent.

 

“....I can’t see any other way, Pidge, how would you like a boost in your salary?”

 

Pidge looks at Allura in confusion- Adorable confusion, her nose and eyebrows furrow a bit -tilting her head, “But I’m an Unpaid Intern?”

 

“Right, how would you like a salary?” Allura asks standing up straighter, “You’d just have to date Lance for a few months.”

 

He watches Pidge’s jaw open a little, before closing, then opening again, “What?” Allura claps her hands together, clear determination on her face now.

 

“You’ll have to play the part of Girlfriend.”


	4. Hot Wine or Mulled Rum?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's CHRISTMAS at Coalition, off to a flying start...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me this year.

There are choices that Pidge makes in her life that she never quite understands, having Plaxum doing her makeup, soft delicate hand tilting Pidge’s up as she applies eyeliner is one of them. 

 

Why had she said Yes? A terrible, terrible decision. 

 

Carefully, she slides the eye that Plaxum isn’t applying makeup to open and looks in the mirror at where Lance is standing have a tense conversation with Allura in a suit jacket. 

 

She wanted to slide his jacket off of his shoulders and steal it, that was it. That was her master plan for revenge.   
  
Stealing a jacket.   
  
And, well. She was supposed to be his 'Girlfriend' wasn't she?

 

“You ready for the Christmas gala?” He speaks and she jumps, swaddled in green velvet with- Oh gods they were real Jade??? -christmas tree jewelled earrings, “You look great.” 

 

Pidge looks at him from the corner of her eye, then turns back to the mirror, her hair had been curled lightly, making it look a little more bob-like at the ends, but pinned up against her head, her make up was light with soft rose lipstick and blush that matched her skin tone, blush coloured eyeshadow and no glasses in sight.

 

Her feet were adorned with black pumps that bought her up to Lance’s chin instead of his chest, no longer eye height with the way the powder blue button-up shirt clung to it, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She murmurs. 

 

He held out a hand towards her, a smile inching up over his lips, “Then we shall go, my lady.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance slides in next to her in the limousine, offers her a glass of champagne as she looks at her shoes.

 

She takes the champagne gingerly, sips the cool liquid and shivers as it joins the chill in the air as the door shuts behind them and her fluffy coat isn’t enough to battle the elements- She thinks the buttons are diamonds but she can’t be sure -then lets him sit close enough so that they’re knees touch.

Even though the black slacks she can feel his body heat, through the green velvet that’s soft against her stocking clad legs, “So, what exactly functions as you being my ‘Girlfriend’?” He asks quietly. 

 

“Isn’t it just hanging off your every word? Saying “You’re the best boyfriend ever” and just generally becoming about 300 IQ points lower than anyone else?” Her sarcasm seemed to miss it’s landing when he blinks again and smiles.

 

“Actually.” Lance begins, his smile curving into a smirk as he took a finger and tilted her chin up so she met his eyes, her throat went dry at the sight of the ocean blue, “I just need you to be your smartass self, Katie.” He purred her name. 

 

_ Purred.  _

 

Pidge cleared her throat, “I see.” It was unfair, how the fuck was someone allowed to make her this breathless in a word? “I suppose you're the arm candy this evening?”   
  
“Absolutely.” He doesn’t move his finger, his gaze flickers and Pidge fights the urge to lick her lips despite the lipgloss, the lipstick, they feel dry, “I’m gonna enjoy hanging off your every word Pidgey Pidge.” 

 

Lance leans a little closer so they’re noses are touching, “Saying “You are the light of my life.” 

 

His breath ghosts her lips, minty fresh and she  _ hates  _ it, “And letting my IQ drop 300 points.” 

 

“You’re teasing me.” She states, “Throwing my sarcasm back at me.” 

 

He pulls away, just a bit, still looking into her eyes, not breaking the eye contact for anything, “What makes you think that?”

 

“Running hypothesis.” 

 

He hums, slowly withdrawing her finger, her head doesn’t move from the position he’d set it in, “Well, reach a conclusion Holt, because I think I have.” 

 

She can’t decide if she wants to learn what he means or not. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

There is a funny feeling that fills Lance whenever he looks at her, a warm gooey momentum that makes his stomach flip in a pleasant way. 

 

Like he’s woken up on Christmas morning and found the best possible outcome waiting for him. 

 

Pidge’s smile as she talks to Ina Leifstoddir from Accounting is infectious, more so when she laughs and her whole face just opens up like how all the best films begin… It was like watching an Audrey Hepburn movie in slow motion. 

 

And Lance was a little afraid that he was falling for it. 

 

When she curls her arm through his again he almost melts, her soft skin brushing his hand as she continues talking, sipping lightly at her champagne as if she was  _ Born  _ into this world of social etiquette, polite prim and proper attitudes and long flowing dresses. 

 

A Butterfly sleeved, sweetheart necklined emerald green velvet dress, cinched in the waist with a black ribbon, an A-line skirt hovering around her ankles with her hair in victory curls, she looked like a dream.

 

Distantly he wondered what unwrapping her would be like, before he shakes it away because her gaze snaps to him as if she  _ knows  _ exactly what’s running through his head. 

 

His throat goes dry at the slight way she smirks up at him, wide round eyes surrounded by dark lashes, she leant up and he wondered what this Angel was going to whisper in his ear. 

 

_ “Stop gaping, before I kick you.”  _

 

He snapped his eyes forwards, Ina blinked at them both, looking a little confused before bidding them farewell. 

 

“ _ I wasn’t gaping, just staring at an Angel.”  _ He whispers back into her ear, they must look successfully in love because a few cameras turn towards them, shutters closing at them,  _ “You look divine in that dress.” _

 

Her eyes leave him, she pulls away, her arm sliding out of his and holds her head high as she lifts it upwards unmoving as she starts through the crowd towards the open bar. 

 

Katie Holt was becoming more and more his kind of woman. 

 

“Whiskey. Neat.” She ordered, then cast a look at him as he caught up to her “And a Raspberry Rum Mule.” 

 

Lance blinks, raising her eyebrows, “A rum mule?” 

 

“You don’t want it?”

 

“Never said that.” He replied quick as a flash, sliding up to her and wrapping an arm around her waist, “Put in an extra shot please.” 

A hand landed on the counter, “Cancel that Rum Mule, Lance can’t handle his rum and I would prefer to avoid another ‘McClain upchucks at Upper West Party’ headline.” 

 

He glares, “Katie, meet my sister Veronica.” The aforementioned smiles as she pushes her brother out the way to take her hands, “She’s annoying.” 

 

“I’m familiar with annoying older siblings.” She laughs, “Katie Holt.”

 

“Veronica McClain, hottest column writer in an age.” His sister smiles, thrust out her hand and Pidge takes it easily, “How on earth did my brother land someone as smart and beautiful as you?”

 

“He didn’t.” Pidge teases, side-eyeing him as her whiskey lands in front of her and she picks it up, sips it and smiles a little wider… “This is all fake, I’m just a good actress.” 

 

A beat. 

 

Veronica starts laughing, “Oh, that’s a good one… Lance, you have to bring her to dinner, Mami would love her.” She waves, a slight giggle still present in her tone, “I have to go, but no rum...  Katie, I’m relying on you to keep him sober.”

 

Pidge salutes and laughs as he turns to frown at her, his sister laughing as she links arms with a beautiful woman nearby, “So, you’re sister works for…?”    
  
“Garrison Gazette, she writes the gossip and the science coloums.” He steals the whiskey out of her hands and she glares at him as he takes a sip, “An odd combination, she’s well aware.” 

 

“So, we avoid her for the rest of the night, because it’s lucky she took what I said as a joke?” 

 

“Yes, especially if I’m not drinking.” 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

It takes an hour, she’s nursing the same drink and Lance and she settled in the corner at a table after doing meet and greets, Pidge thinks there isn’t a single person’s voice she hasn’t heard this evening. 

 

“Madison Van Buren?” 

 

“Not.” She replies, sipping her drink and leaning towards him as people glance they’re way, there’s a familiar gleam in the corner of her eye that briefly makes her pause because she almost thinks… No, that’s impossible, “Darla Germain?” 

 

“Hot.” Lance mutters quietly as the tall woman walks past them and smiles, “Though they don’t hold a candle to you.” 

 

Pidge raises her eyebrows at him, “Laying it on a bit thick aren’t we?”

 

“I don’t think I’m laying it on thick enough, honestly, what does it take to charm you?” He asks, leaning towards her ear, making a show of it, “My charm is legendary.” 

 

She smirks at him, leans closer herself and lets her hand rest on his arm, idly moving her fingers, “I’ve been charmed by better, it’s not like I’m a good old pure girl from South Carolina.” 

 

“You are very sarcastic today… But, you’ve piqued my curiosity.” Lance catches her hand, she ignores how warm it is, ignores the way he lifts it to his lips and presses a kiss against the back of it, “Who has charmed you then? Who’s beaten me bloody good by stealing your heart?”

 

Her eyes roll all by themselves, “No one stole my heart Lance, but if you must know his name was Griffin, James Gri-”

 

“Katie?” 

 

Pidge freezes, because she had seen him earlier, slowly she turns her head to see him, “James?” Tall, dark hair swooped forwards in a quiff, blue eyes and…  _ Fuck, fuck fuck fuck- “ _ What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m writing a piece for Coalition’s Holiday summary issue, the better question is why are you here?” He walks forwards, that swagger that hooks her attention and she drops her hand from Lance’s shoulder almost immediately, “I mean, it’s really nice to see you…” 

 

His voice is soft as he looks at her with a lot more softness, “It’s good to see you too.” She breathes quietly, Lance’s grip on her hand loosens, “I didn’t know you wrote for Coalition.” 

 

“I didn’t know you were dating one of our top models, so I think that makes two of us.” He laughs quietly, crosses his arms and walks up properly to the table, “Can I have a dance by any chance?”

 

She laughs at the rhyme, then glances once at Lance, whose face is still set in a soft smile, “I suppose so if my date doesn’t mind you stealing me?”   
  
“Go ahead, who am I to deny you?” Lance replies, soft as anything and she almost doesn’t want to leave him sat there all alone. 

 

James pulls her from her chair. 

 

She lets him. 

 

* * *

 

 

“You aren’t actually dating him are you?” He spins her out and then back in, his arm finding a very familiar purchase around her waist, “I know how you look when you’re in a relationship Katie, I’m not a fool…”

 

Pidge sighs as he dips her, “No, but it’s not much of a choice… And the paycheck is rather nice.”

 

“How many figures?”   
  
“....Four…” 

 

“Already have an apartment picked out?” James teases, he smiles at her ever so nicely and for a moment Pidge forgets exactly where she is, “He’s seemingly trying his hardest to charm you… Too bad someone left an impression with Fly Boy levels of it.” 

 

He winks and she laughs, falling against his shoulders, “You’re terrible.” 

 

“You’ve missed me.” 

 

“Maybe I have.” 

 

James spins her around again, “Should I return you to your date or shall I steal you away entirely, completely your call Katie.” 

 

He curls the syllables of her name, something she heard a lot a while ago, “I should get back, have to keep the ruse up for the tabloids after all…” 

 

“Loverboy Lance…” James whistles as he starts walking her off the floor, “He’s handsome, but he doesn’t hold anything towards your beauty, my dear.” 

  
She rolls her eyes, “Remind me why we broke up James?”

 

“I joined the Air Force and you disapproved.” 

 

“And yet here you are, alive and well.” He presses a kiss to her left hand, “You got what you wanted for the most part at least right?”

 

There’s a sad glint in his eyes as they reach where Lance is still sat, “Almost…” He says it wistfully and leaves her there, wandering back into the crowd.

 

Lance joins her at her shoulder, “Okay, I get it, I can see why he charmed you before me… His hair looks kind of stupid though.” 

“The ladies love it.” Pidge replies as Lance’s arm twists around her waist, “I certainly enjoyed the aesthetics of it… Come on..” 

 

“What?” 

 

“We’re dancing Lancey Lance.” 

 

He stares at her as she grabs his hand and pulls him out onto the dance floor. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

She should have known this was going to happen. 

 

“Come on, kiss under the mistletoe for the front page?” The paparazzi calls, as she looks up at the sprig above them. 

 

Lance smiles with all the glamour he can muster, but he’s trying to herd her away and… She grabs his tie, which she hates is  _ Armani  _ and lightly tugs his attention back to her, maybe she’s taking advantage of the situation- Fuck it, she definitely is, but mixed with the flirting in the limousine and seeing James something in her just really wants to be kissed. 

 

“You sure?” He mutters at her, which makes her blink… Because, yes she was as she pulls him down fully, sealing her lips to his as someone whistles nearby. 

 

And, in all intents and purposes, she  _ did  _ intend for it to be a quick, light peck and nothing more…

 

But, as his lips slot against hers, as she presses upwards, she knows within two seconds of his response that she wants to do this again. 

 

She tilts her head to the left and the response is immediate, she wants to do this again… And again, and… 

 

He sighs against her lips as he pulls away, she mourns the loss as she looks over to the cameras, the faces of the other people leaving the party and she realises that  _ Oh  _ a mini makeout session was probably already on it’s way to every gossip source in the world. 

 

Still, as she slides into the car with Lance in quick succession… She can’t really regret it. 

 

The car door shuts and Pidge makes a decision. 

 

“Lance?” 

 

“Hmm?” He still looks a little dazed as she grabs his tie again, “Again?” He mumbles, his eyes snapping to hers, “Are you completely sure?” 

“Yes.” She says with so much definite promise in the word this time as he seals their lips together as the car starts to drive off into the night. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ “You did what?”  _ Romelle squeaks at one AM, “You kissed a guy, a guy you’ve been agonising over after seeing  _ James Griffin  _ at a high-class Gala, then you let him take you  _ Home?”  _

 

“Romelle, both of us were tired and while I am a fan of making terrible decisions, I think I had enough for the evening.” She slowly teases the victory curls out of her hair, she’d changed out of the dress and hung it in her wardrobe to be retrieved in the morning, make up all cleaned off of, “And, are we just going to completely ignore that you have A) Shay in your bed and B) Someone else who looks vaguely familiar.” 

 

The blonde shuffles around in a yellow button up that reaches her knees, “The model from my drawing class stopped by so I could practice… Anatomy…” 

 

“And Shay helped?” 

 

“I did actually draw you know, there was no funny business.” 

 

Pidge raises her eyebrows. 

 

“Really! It’s not like I made out with someone in the back of a limousine and then  _ came home.”  _

 

She crossed her arms, “You are never gonna shut up about that now are you?”

 

“Nope, because it was stupid.” 

 

“Doing him would have been stupid.” 

 

“SO DO SOMETHING STUPID PIDGE!” 

 

A laugh comes from Romelle’s bedroom door, “Do Lance, he’s stupid and he needs it.” Hunk walks into their living room, a smile on his face, “Like, really, he’s getting hung up on you and I don’t even think he realises it.” 

 

She glares at both of them, “So are you dating both Romelle and Shay, or are you and Shay dating Romelle?” 

 

“We’re both dating Shay, we’re coexisting and Hunk happens to actually be a Hunk.” Romelle explains fluidly, “But that’s beside the point missy.” 

She shakes her head at both of them, “I’m going to bed, it’s been a long day.” 

 

“We aren’t done talking about this!” Hunk calls. 

 

“Can this year just end already?!” 

 

Pidge was ready for it too. 

 

 

 


End file.
